


The Two Weirdos Who Work In The Lab

by berlynn_wohl



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Blood Donation, Established Relationship, Failboats In Love, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-06
Updated: 2013-11-06
Packaged: 2017-12-31 17:04:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1034155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/berlynn_wohl/pseuds/berlynn_wohl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two vignettes about the worst kept secret in the Shatterdome.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Two Weirdos Who Work In The Lab

A/N: The first part of this fic contains a detailed description of a routine and uneventful blood donation.

Currently [in many countries](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gay_male_blood_donor_controversy#Current_situation), a man cannot donate blood if he has ever had sex with another man. This fic takes place in the future, where hopefully people will be abiding by more progressive rules.

 

 

**1.**

 

Newt and Hermann watched the live broadcast of every kaiju attack, on the video screen in the lab. Sometimes they could glean valuable information about a kaiju’s anatomy and behavior by watching its interaction with their world. Later, of course, they would receive much more extensive recorded footage to study, in addition to bits of the carcass.

Newt in particular, not being able to experiment with a live kaiju, only being handed inert specimens later, was particularly interested in the videorecordings. If he wanted, he could have even gone out to the mess hall, where the screen projection was ten times larger. But his fascination with the kaiju was no secret, and the other residents of the Shatterdome, most of whom had lost loved ones in a kaiju attack, would bully him for his body art and for the way he talked about their past and current exploits in the way a sports fan might talk about their favorite athlete while they were on the screen.

Hidoi’s attack on Bangkok was cut short by Crimson Typhoon. Afterward, Hermann sat at his computer and began typing up his observations; Newt wanted to continue to watch the highlight reel and commentary, but the feed cut out, replaced by an internal broadcast and accompanying klaxon: All personnel were being summoned for a blood drive.

Newt had been dreading this part. Blood drives were routine in the Hong Kong Shatterdome after a kaiju attack in the Far East.

Hermann stood up the moment he heard the klaxon, saved his document on the computer, and took Newt by the arm to walk him to the mess hall in an orderly fashion.

“Why do we have to donate blood all the time?” Newt whined. “Bangkok is a thousand miles away. Aren’t there people there who can donate blood?”

“The personnel in Bangkok are too busy putting blood _into_ people who need it; there’s no one available to draw it from donors.”

“Why do they need _my_ blood? O is the most common blood type. There are a million people who can give O.”

“You know very well that people with O can only receive O. Because it’s the most common type, it’s also the most in demand.”

The mess hall was the largest room in the Shatterdome that could reasonably be repurposed on short notice. Personnel had queued in front of a row of vinyl reclining chairs, like dentist’s chairs, each one manned by a nurse. Standard procedure was for personnel to head for the chairs one at a time, as their turns came up, but Hermann accompanied Newt to his chair, and no one protested; most of them knew that Hermann was just keeping Newt calm, was in fact the only person who Newt allowed to calm him down, and they also knew that he would be back to donate himself, after Newt was safely napping in his bunk. And even those who didn’t know that Newt had a difficult time giving blood at least understood that the two weirdos who worked in the lab were inseparable, and there was no use saying anything about it.

Newt mumbled a greeting at the nurse, who cheerfully welcomed him into the chair. She worked in a nearby hospital, not the Shatterdome, and when Hermann and Newt approached her at the same time, she regarded them oddly. Hermann explained as Newt flopped into the chair, “He’s perfectly fine and healthy, he’s just a lightweight about giving blood. I’m here for, er, moral support.”

Newt refused to look at the nurse; he squeezed his eyes shut and faced away from her, towards Hermann, who was on his right. He placed both arms on the arm-rests; the left one lay limp, but with his right hand he blindly made a grabby gesture until Hermann took hold of it.

The nurse tied the tourniquet around Newt’s arm just above the elbow. Newt whined. Then she asked Newt to make a fist. He did this, and whined. She tapped the appropriate vein with her finger, and Newt whined when he felt it. She used a cold alcohol wipe to disinfect the puncture area, and Newt flinched and whined. He was quiet while she inspected the needle for defects, and Hermann took the opportunity to remind Newt that he was not allowed to fidget anymore.

The nurse grasped his arm and angled it, lined the needle up with the vein, and inserted it. When he felt the sting of the needle going in, Newt squeezed Hermann’s hand so hard, Hermann whined, for once.

“You can relax your fist now,” the nurse said as she removed the tourniquet.

Almost immediately, Newt was quiet and still.

“Do you feel alright?”

Newt made an indistinct noise, which Hermann assured the nurse was an affirmative.

“Hermann?”

“Yes?” Several seconds went by without Newt continuing. With his free hand, Hermann reassuringly patted Newt’s iron grip on him.

Finally, groggily, Newt said: “I’m cold.”

“I know. It will be over shortly.”

“When we’re done…?”

“…Yes?”

“Can we cuddle?”

Hermann blushed. The nurse was working hard to suppress a chuckle, as she monitored the blood flowing through the holder and down the tube. “Of course we can,” Hermann whispered. “Everyone who donates gets the afternoon off.”

Newt turned to the nurse, his eyes still tightly shut. He slurred, “Hey, I don’t want you to get the wrong idea…”

Just then a junior staff member trotted up to the chair. “Doctor Gottlieb! The Marshall wants to see you. It’s to do with Hidoi.”

“Can’t it wait five minutes?”

“The Marshall said now.”

Hermann nodded and held up a “one second” finger. He turned back to Newt. “I’m going to be gone for just a moment, alright?”

“ _Mnnh_.”

“He’ll be fine,” Hermann said to the nurse. “I’ll try to be back before he’s done.” And with some effort, he freed his hand from Newt’s and made his way to LOCCENT.

Newt made an ambiguous humming noise in response to Hermann’s absence, then said woozily, “What was…Oh yeah. I was saying I don’t want you to get the wrong idea about me and Hermann. Because, see…you’re probably thinking that because he’s taller, he must be the big spoon. But I’m totally the big spoon, always.”

The nurse uttered a non-committal “Oh.”

Newt tilted his head so he was more or less facing forward. His eyes were open just a fraction as he slurred, “People think that it must be hard for us to have sex because of his leg. But actually, we can do it lots of ways.”

“Oh, uh-huh,” the nurse said as she watched the volume of blood in the bag. She thought he was done talking, but then he mumbled, “Hermann’s really good at sex. We fight, like…all the time, but that just…that just makes him--”

Hermann returned to Newt’s side, and took his hand again. The nurse was pressing a cotton ball against the puncture as she removed the needle from Newt’s arm. “I’m back,” Hermann said. “It looks like you’re just about finished.”

“Uh-huh…”

Hermann was not an ideal candidate to help someone out of a chair, or for them to lean on once they were upright. The nurse helped Newt to stand, and Hermann put his free arm around him, and together they wobbled in the direction of the table where cookies and juice were being distributed. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?” Hermann crooned softly.

“Hmm.”

“Now we’re going to get you a cookie and some orange juice.”

“…But you sent that email, telling everyone they weren’t allowed to let me have sugar. Or caffeine.”

“I know, but you can have some sugar today. Now, what did you and the nurse talk about?”

“Uh…what were we talking about? Oh yeah.” Newt picked up a cookie and took a huge bite, then continued talking. “I was telling her she shouldn’t get the wrong idea about us, just because of what I said about the cuddling.”

This was a relief to Hermann, who had been afraid that Newt would make embarrassing revelations to the nurse in his absence.

 

 

 

**2.**

 

The truth was, even if Newt were capable of keeping a secret, everybody knew about them. About half of the people who worked in the Shatterdome had walked in on them at some point, and they’d all immediately turned around and told the other half.

It wasn’t that they were constantly at it. It was just that whenever they did go at it, they were terrible at being discreet. Anyone that walked by their quarters ran the risk of overhearing Newt shouting lurid imperatives at Hermann. And most of them had even learned to approach the lab with caution, lest they enter to find themselves treated to an impromptu lesson in human biology.

A maintenance man, tasked with routinely checking the refrigeration units in the lab, had been warned about Newt and Hermann. The lab had no proper doors, just two large, arched entryways at either side. As the maintenance man approached one of these entrances, he could see no one inside. Creeping up, he listened to the noises within, to determine whether it was safe to enter. From inside the lab, he heard:

“I didn’t ‘wonder’ what would happen if I drank it. I had a _very specific hypothesis_ about what would happen.”

“Your reckless behavior is going to get you killed one day! Or banished from the PPDC! Then what will you do? What would you do if you couldn’t study kaiju?”

“Well maybe if we actually had some decent equipment, and this lab didn’t look like a cargo cult established after the Soviets left in 1992, I wouldn’t have to do silly stuff like that!”

Confident that they were only arguing, the maintenance man walked through the doorway with his toolkit…and immediately regretted it.

Just around the corner, on the surface of a tidy desk, Newt was bent over, and he and Hermann were fucking as viciously as they were yelling. Their clothes had been pushed aside just enough to facilitate the act. Hermann’s hips shimmied mechanically, pounding Newt with pitiless force. His characteristic scowl and scolding tone seemed unaffected by his current status (i.e., “balls-deep”). His glasses swung on the chain around his neck, tapping against his chest with each thrust. “You were thinking only of yourself!” he shouted at the back of Newt’s head. “What about me? What would I do without you? You know that I—that I—”

“Oh God, Hermann, yeah. Tell me!”

Hermann leaned forward, pressing his face against the back of Newt’s neck, and whispered something in his ear. Newt’s whole body trembled, and he let loose a magnificently vulgar scream. Hermann carried on for a few seconds longer, then suddenly his thrusting stopped, and he gave a deep, rumbling sigh. He collapsed atop Newt, and they lay together on the desk in a shivering heap.

Agog and dry-mouthed, the maintenance man tiptoed back out into the corridor. He spent some time wondering what would be an appropriate length of time to wait before attempting to re-enter, but ultimately he just could not bring himself to do it. He went back to the maintenance office.

When the supervisor saw the look on his face, he said, “What the hell happened to you? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” The supervisor checked the duty log, saw where he’d just been, and said, “ _Oh._ Alright, don’t worry about it, we’ll get someone else out there to check on the refrigeration units tomorrow.”

The supervisor turned around in his swivel chair and added a name to the list posted on the wall behind his desk: “ _Staff who refuse to enter the research lab ever again.”_ (Underneath that, some wise-ass had added, _“… due to traumatic eye injury_.”)


End file.
